


Sit Down and Talk it Out Like Reasonable People.

by elanorsparkles



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, Happy Ending, POV First Person, POV me, There I Fixed It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 00:54:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6832285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elanorsparkles/pseuds/elanorsparkles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the author enters the MCU and fixes a few things.</p><p>Update: Reading this again later is <i>soo</i> cringey, and I apologize now to whoever reads this.<br/>Just ...enjoy the cringe.</p><p>(I'm still shamelessly editing and writing it tho)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Original: Hey, peeps! This is my first work and it's a work in progress! It's also un-edited and will have portions rearranged. I know every fangirl imagines entering the universe of her book/show and making the characters behave (Sorry fanboys. Idk if y'all do that.), so all I did was write down those imaginings :) I hope to get better at writing 3rd person, but 1st person will have to do for now! BTW, someone has offered to illustrate this for me. Yay!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, places, etc. Except the character that is myself. (Of course.)
> 
> Update: I forgot who was gonna illustrate this. I don't care anymore. This is embarrassing to read now, I can't image how bad it'll be in ten years. Please embrace embarrassing teenage me and laugh, same as I did.

“STOP THIS INSTANT!” I shouted.

Everyone ground to a screeching halt. 

“SIT DOWN!”

Forming a circle around me, Cap’s trio and Black Panther sit down. The authority of surprise is working well for me.

“Guys. Have you sat down like reasonable people and talked this out? ...Your highness, why are you chasing Bucky? ...Bucky, did you set a bomb? ...No? ...I don’t think you did, but we don’t have proof you did or didn’t. It’s possible someone just looks like Bucky, right? Or that someone’s _trying_ to look like Bucky? It’s possible.”

“Listen, kid. What do you want?” Steve demands.

“I want you to go get yourselves into a car -- all in the same car -- and let’s head back to base to talk this out carefully.”

They all begin to climb in, but I stop them for a moment.

“Wait. Before we get in, I need a hug. I’m from another dimension; I do things a little differently.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Since this is an SUV, Your Majesty, you get shotgun. Bucky, I’m going to need you to sit in the back. I have some questions for you.” I direct. Everyone climbs in and the convoy starts for the compound.

I turn to Bucky.

“This may sounds strange, but can I touch your arm?”

“Uhh, sure.”

“...Dude. This is awesome! What’s it made of? Is it heavy to you? Was it at first? How does your weight balance out with this?” I place his arm on my head.

“Sorry.” I apologize to his strange look. “I measure weight better like that. I get a better concept on my head rather than in my hand.”

He chuckles.

“Does it hurt you still? How do you feel about it? Is it just a part of you? Or is it a weapon that’s permanently attached? Do you wish it was gone? How does it work?”

The questions go on, and Bucky, somewhere between hesitant and delighted so it ends up confused, answers them all.

Turning to Cap and Sam, I tell them, “You know, in my dimension, everyone thinks you guys are so cool. Yes. Even you, Bucky.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After spending the entire car ride explaining about my dimension, how superheroes don't exist there, and that I'm a little unusual there too, we arrive at the base. Here, I kick into gear. I know how to handle this. Being from another dimension allows me to see some of the past, and a little of the future. Directing people is my forte. I should probably get a promotion or something.

“Alright. First things first,” confidently, I stride into the building. “I know you are wondering what the heck a random civilian thinks she's doing bossing you around, but you have to listen to me. General Ross? Mr. Stark? I'm from another dimension."

Thinking about how to prove this, I decide tell them personal details about themselves.

"Tony, you eat gluten free waffles for breakfast and Pepper’s allergic to strawberries. *insert random fact about Thunderbolt that most people in the MCU don't know. (If you know one, PLS tell me)* Trust me. If you don't, still just go along with me. If you don't listen, Rhodey’s gonna end up paralyzed, Hawkeye, Wanda, and others imprisoned, and Cap and Tony not talking to each other. And you, ” I look at Ross. “I'm not sure, but nobody's opinion of you is going to go up, so just work with me here.”

Stark and General Ross skeptically keep their mouths shut.

“Great! We understand each other. You'll come to know me in time.”

I draw Bucky aside.

“Buck,” my voice is grave and caring. “Bucky, I know there was a series of words to put you in the Winter Soldier mindset.” I pause to let him think. “What happens if that sequence is begun, but isn't finished?”

The cinnamon roll assassin pauses, “I'm not sure.”

With a deep breath I finish, “Do you think you could handle a few words without getting, uh. Going… um, going back?”

He hesitates.

“I'm so sorry, Bucky. It's pretty important. We'll have people waiting here for you when you return. Can you do it?”

“I'll try,” his gravely voice tells me.

I nod him my thanks.

At the table, surrounded by the squad, I explain the plan.  
“There's a guy on his way right now. His name is Zemo. In a few minutes, the power’s going to go down. Instead of the psychologist you sent in for Bucky, he will come. We'll need to make it look like Mr. Barnes is our prisoner. Bucky, as soon as he starts to say you-know-what, escape. Do whatever it takes. Make him our prisoner instead. Nat and I will creep behind and keep watch in case anything goes wrong. Ms. Romanoff, under NO circumstances do you kill Mr. Barnes, okay?” I swivel in my chair. (Well, I've _been_ swiveling in my chair.) (I love spinny chairs.)

“I know Romanoff, but why you?” Steve questions.

“In case things go wrong.” I don't have time to explain further. Zemo will be here soon. “Alright, team! We good?”

Sam answers for everyone, “We good.”


	2. The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We capture Zemo and almost lose Bucky.

Zemo stole past the guards -- and the infamous Black Widow. Also me. But mostly Black Widow. He sat down and we crept towards the door.

"Hello, James."

"My name... is Bucky."

Pulling out a book, Zemo commands, “What do you remember?”

'Tasha and I stifle a gasp. _The Book._

“I don't wanna talk about it.” Bucky's voice is thick.

“желание.”

“Stop.” Bucky's voice is low and urgent this time.

“ржавый.”

“Stop!” Panic is creeping in his voice.

My heart starts pounding. Bucky yanks at the restraints.

“семнадцать.”

“STOP!!” Bucky screams.

Finally, the restraints give way on his left arm, and he himself tears off the others. Sergeant Barnes pounds on the glass.

“рассвет.”

“STOP! STOP!!”

I can't take this. The glass was supposed to break. Those screams break my heart and wrench my stomach.

“печь.”

Desperate,The Winter Soldier mercilessly beats the glass. The glass doesn't budge. Merciless. Just like that swine, Zemo.

“девять.”

“Wait.” I trust Ms. Romanoff's judgement, so I give her no further instructions. Pushing open the door, I inch into the room.

“добросердечный.”

I know I'm being reckless. I can't help it; those screams tear me apart from the inside. When I see a situation pointed south, I can't ignore it. My heart sounds like the loudest thing in the room, next to Mr. Barnes screams.

“возвращение на родину.”

Carefully, I tiptoe around the desk. I don't know if Bucky even notices me in his desperation. ...Man, I didn't remember the room being this big.

“один.”

Suddenly I'm behind Zemo. Somewhere I hear glass shattering. With a leap from behind, I take him by the neck and we fall to the floor. He reaches for my hair. I bite his face. The next instant, Zemo has got at least ten guns trained on him, a couple of master assassins standing over him, a one VERY angry teenage girl ready to take him down again.


	3. The Accords Address

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy. Again, all unedited and all un-logical.

With Zemo in a cell identical to Bucky's, I can now focus on addressing the Accords, “As a friend who loves y’all and as a peacemaker, may I offer a suggestion?”

“Let’s hear it.” Man o’ Iron sounds a tad bit _done_.

“Here’s what I suggest: Instead of arguing which decision is the right one- Both are right. One _may_ be better than the other, but both are right. Keep in mind that HYDRA _is_ still alive-”

“And how do you know this?” Stark is talkative today.

“I don’t. However, how long has HYDRA been around? For sure since the early 1940’s, but how long before that? Isn’t there evidence of it being around since ancient times?”

The Captain nods.

“And how many times of you “killed” it, only for it to pop up again somewhere else? Too many. ‘Cut off one head; two more shall take its place.’ HYDRA’s not dead. Back when y’all were searching for Loki’s scepter, you destroyed many HYDRA bases. But you stopped when you found the scepter. Just because you found it doesn’t mean it’s the last one. I know for a fact that there are still HYDRA agents out there…”

“Point number one made. Where's your next point?

“My point there was why we can't trust the government. My next point is: Did you ever get to hear what Alexander Pierce’s last conversation? To quote, ‘What if Pakistan marched into Mumbai tomorrow, and you knew they were going to drag your daughter into a soccer stadium for execution, and you could stop it with a flick of a switch... wouldn't you?’. What if that was Pepper?” Turning to Vision I ask, “What if that was Wanda?”

Vision’s face clouds over and he steals a glance at the Maximoff girl.

“Now what if they told you that you couldn't flip the switch? There are numerous reasons why that could happen.”

Nobody says anything.

“Those are the reasons I believe signing The Accords isn't the best thing. You can decide whatever way you want, but I have a proposition. But first, break time! I want some lunch.”

“But what about checks? Accountability?” Demands Mr. Stark.

Looking him in the eye I tell him, “Food.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dude, at home I'm WRITING AN ESSAY on the Sokovian Accords! I've done my research!”

The blessed thing called “food” under the subsection “lunch” has been devoured and now I'm arguing with Tony Stark. Stark thinks he wants to question my knowledge and credit on the Accords. Ugh.

“I haven't even finished explaining both sides to you!”

“Have you actually _read __the Accords?” He jabs. Oy, again with the plagues! Why did I ever move to Egypt!? (Mr. Peabody and Sherman, by the way.)_

“I-”

Just now, an officer walks in and informs General Ross, “Sir, a hotel in Berlin. The body of the psychiatrist was found there, along with facial prosthetics resembling Sgt. Barnes.”

At least three of us breathe a sigh of relief.

“So Sgt. Barnes isn't the UN bomber?” General Ross asks the air.

“No sir, this is an elaborate plan to get the Avengers to kill each other.” I tell the air and everyone else.

The air hangs still. Everyone seems a little surprised. Or maybe the air seems surprised? I don't know with the air now considered a being and all. Or is it that everyone is being considered the air? I'm confused. It's probably the everyone is an air being considered. Moving on.

“Go talk to Zemo,” I suggest. “I probably don't need to tell you this, but use tact -- don't bring up his plan. I recommend using his phone. Ask him to explain his voicemails.”

Thunderbolt leaves the room and I follow him.

“Sir. I would suggest dropping the Sokovia Accords. These superheroes are about to have a system of checks that will deem the Accords unnecessary. If you want to avoid a big, scandalous mess and misplacing even more nukes, drop the Accords.”

Before he can answer I slip back into the conference room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Team Building Meeting: part 2, take 2.

Holding up my hand I say, “Mr. Stark, hear me out. The Accord are good as the can provide some accountability. Also, if someone goes rogue, it can provide a leash.”

Stark begins, “Bu- “

“I did say to let me finish. I'm going to finish. By the laws of this, you can't leave whatever country you're in without permission. You're fighting in France and you're enemy flies to Germany? SOL. You want go take an actual vacation for once to the Bahamas? Nope. Your S/O gets kidnapped while you're on a small mission? Houston, we have a problem.” I pause and take a breath. “...Long story short, I'm not going to tell you what to do, but I don't think it's wise to sign. The safest hands are still our own. Instead, I have a proposal.”

“Ooh! Cliffhanger!” Tony sasses and begins humming Sherlock's theme. 

I turn to Rhodey. “Oh well. I've annoyed him haven't I?”

“You've done more than annoy him! You've irritated and disrespected- “

“Ok. Sorry. This whole dimension changing this has gotten to my head. I apologize.”

I realize I'm standing on the table. “...Um, wow. I did get a little carried away there, didn't I?”

Steve nods.

“Yeahhhh. So why don't y'all split into separate teams? Give Mr. Rogers a team and Mr. Stark a team. Have a set of rules for each team and this way, if one goes out of line, the other is there to reason with them. No hard feelings all around!”

Morning dawns on faces all around the room. Or ideas. Same thing.

General Ross returns to the room and explains Zemo's motives. Things click into place for everyone and we spend the rest of the afternoon lining up the rules and working out the glitches in the plan.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's evening time, and the team is back at the mansion. The Accords are resolved so I can now focus on reuniting friends. Steve's team will stay at the mansion while they find themselves a base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it's a little unrealistic, but then again, so is this whole thing.

To be honest, I'm terribly excited about being friends with Wanda. I love friends and I can tell she's going to be a worthy friend. I think I'll call her Mjolnir; see how long it takes her to figure out why. Probably not long. That mind-reading thing might be a problem… Wait, nevermind. I'll never have to wonder what I want to eat for dinner. 

Really though. I'm excited to be _her_ friend. I don't imagine she's had many friends in her eighteen years…

 

Knock knock!

“Who is it?” The voice within queries.

Opening the door, I laugh. “Not Vision!”

The chair the Maximoff girl is reading in looks so cozy that I might have to sneak in here when she's gone.

“Wanda?”

“Yes? Can I help you?” Her thick accent is precious. She's always so ready to be polite.

“I need a rather strange favor. Can you do it? I need you to get inside Stark’s head and show him what it's like to have you doing something while it's not you doing it.”

“Okay…” Wanda says carefully.

“The point is for him to understand how Bucky was. Is that something you can do?”

“I can try.” She agrees.

Standing up I ask, “Quick question. Um, how old are you?”

“Eighteen.” The precious cinnamon roll tells me.

“Perfect!” I tell her before giving her a hug. “Let me talk to Stark real quick, and I’ll let you know when you can do your thing.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay, guys. One last thing. It's gonna seem strange; don't question it.” I have called a meeting. Rhodey, Vision, and Bucky are making a thing I hope will turn out to be dinner, but the rest of the team is here.

Tony notices that Wanda is there, sitting beside me.

“Why’s she here? Gonna look inside my head? Make sure we're all sane? Because I can tell you, we're not.” 

I smile, “No, she's my best fran now and best frans do everything together. She's my honorary sister, especially since my sister's not here.”

The aforementioned girl jumps slightly. I hadn't told her that yet.

“Mr. Stark. Have you ever had a nightmare?” 

“I sure have. Where are you going with this?”

Oy. No one here is dumb, that's for certain. In fact, they're REALLY smart. But those are other stories…

“Where _am_ I going with this? Give me a second while I find my point.”

After a short pause, I speak again.

“I want you to understand Mr. Barnes a bit better.”

“And why do I need to do that? Why doesn't he come and tell me himself? I've hardly had a chance to speak to the man!” He is most definitely not suspicious.

Sighing, I explain to him, “I know the future on this one. It doesn't end pretty.”

“And you think you can fix everyone with a little therapy.”

“Oh heck, no. This is a potentially DISASTROUS situation and I'm trying to help it not be. I just _need_ you to cooperate.”

“What harm can it be?” He sighs, “Proceed.”

“Ok, Mr. Stark. You have nightmares. You ever have the kind where you are doing things you don't want to, but you can't stop? Your conscience is screaming at you, but you won't listen?”

Nodding slowly, he listens.

“Then, waking up panicked and in an anxiety attack, you are flooded with relief that it was a dream? ...What if you woke up and it wasn't a dream? You did all those things while you cried for yourself to stop.”

Tony is silent.

“That's Bucky.”

With a predetermined cue, Wanda does her thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Watching Stark is tremendous fun.

“Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?” Steve teases as Tony slaps himself in the face again. 

Okay, maybe be we started off a little cruel, but soon the commotion has brought the chefs from the kitchen and suggestions are flying through the air.

“Have him tango with the Cap!” Clint laughs.

“Nonono. I need Mr. Stank to officially proclaim himself King of the Monkeys.” Rhodey goads.

Nat says she wants him to do stuff I'm not going to write down.

T’Challa can barely contain his booming laughter.

“No! Oh good heavens! You guys, first of all, he's still in there. Second, we are NOT having him to that.” I face palm. Ding! I have an idea. Giggling, I lean over and whisper something to Wanda.

The Iron Man wanders into the kitchen where the coconut flour tortillas made special for my various food intolerances are sitting and everything is laid out for making tacos.

“Hey everyone, ever think about unfrosted poptarts?” He says while pulling an assortment of ingredients out of the pantry.

“Man, those things are nasty!” Clint exclaims. “Laura has got it into her head that those are better. Less sweet tasting, she says.”

Tony whirls around with a can of peaches on his head (they fell off). “I would have to say that Laura is one cool cat.”

Stifled snickers rose up around the room when Clint went off. Now no one's hiding the fact that this is getting quite amusing. 

I glance at the Scarlet Witch. Red is seeping around her, her eyes are sparkling, and she's clearly having much more fun than she's had in ages.

Tony starts dumping ingredients into a bowl, still raving about unfrosted poptarts. “It's such a shame frosted are more popular. Unfrosted are healthier; they're a fruit!”

“Really, Mr. Stank?” Rhodey asks with a lift of the chin.

Stirring furiously, the genius answers, “I don’T KNOW!”

“Okay, tell me again why you don't like frosted ones.” Nat prods, spinning on her barstool.

Tony, now rolling out what seems to be an acre of dough, roars, “Because no one likes them! I'm a hipster for Odin’s sake!” 

Mr. Lang has been strangely quiet, so I look around and spot him in the corner, holding up his cell phone, tears streamed down his face.

Pinching, patting, carving, and shrieking, the famous Mr. Stark is perched on the countertop making pie after pie.

Vision leans over to me, “Are you sure this is safe?”

“Do you trust Wanda?” I retort, but I'm interrupted.

“...four, five, siX, SEVEN pies.” Everyone counts in unison. Breathing is difficult. “SE- SEVEN ...PIES!”

Bucky is practically rolling on the floor. “TONY STARK MADE _SEVEN_ PIES!”

I nod to Wanda and she lets Stark go, just as he's striking up another conversation.

“Hey, Clint? Need some new arrows?”


End file.
